Collision of Memories and the Present
by LongshotLink
Summary: This is a tale of my team from Icewind Dale I & II. It is told from the viewpoint of Libralma, my main fighter. She struggles to deal with her past that vastly affects her view to the present.


The three casters sat in a tight circle, meditating was Libralma's guess. They did it whenever the group stopped. Libralma knew that whether clerical or arcane, the casters had to keep sharp.

Libralma rested on the butt of her mace. To the untrained eye, it looked like she was at ease, but she could whip the weapon up into a ready position in an instant. Apparently, Maspion didn't believe her when she had told him the first time.

Maspion was trying to sneak up on her, but she had heard his footsteps as soon as he began to move toward her. So much for being the team rogue. Maspion pretended to swing his sword in her face, an attempt to scare her, but suddenly found himself staring at the sky. She had tripped him up with her mace.

"Don't do that again, Maspion," warned Libralma. Maspion quickly got up and retreated, not wanting to have the mace embedded in his skull. He stopped at the fire where Frealt was sharpening his sword. Behind her, Libralma noticed Maraj's grin for a moment before it returned to stony concentration.

Libralma rolled her eyes, but felt a small smile creep on her face. She knew Maraj liked the halfling, but she would never admit to it. The gnome, being an illusionist, had attached herself to Maspion to learn his hiding techniques. Libralma suspected her intentions went deeper than that, though.

"It's been a quiet day," said Frealt. "No signs of orcs, or even goblins. I'm getting a little worried."

"You're right," agreed Libralma. "These hills should be crawling with the filth, or at least their corpses once we were done with them." Libralma heard Thia stand up from her spot at the circle.

"That's why we've been performing these divination spells these past few days. We've tried to uncover if we're walking into a trap."

_So that's what they've been doing._ Libralma grimaced as the slim teenager talked about the magic. While she was used to battle magic, even her enemies', overall magic made her uncomfortable. Thia continued her explanation.

"So far, we haven't found out anything, but there seems to be a shield over our divining powers. That's why we're doing this together."

Karli lifted her head long enough to say, "I have to agree with Libralma. There is definitely something weird going on here."

"Oh you elves…and half-elves, are all the same. What's wrong with a little peace and quiet?" commented Maspion as he lounged on the ground. Libralma and Karli bristled at the mention of their races. Karli for different reasons than Libralma.

Karli, being a half-elf, was shunned from almost everywhere she and her parents had gone. They had finally found refuge in the small village that Thia had grown up in. Here, her family was finally accepted. Sadly, Karli's parents had died two years later, leaving the 8-year-old child to be cared for by the local church.

Libralma glared at the halfling, making him twitch under her dagger-eyes. Libralma had grown up with bullies and adults tormenting her because she was elven. She had to learn to fight just to survive. She didn't need any reminders of her past.

Being human, Frealt and Thia didn't really know what to say. After an awkward moment, Frealt continued sharpening his sword and Thia rejoined the circle of magic. Libralma relaxed again, still prepared enough to strike at a moment's notice, and watched the white hills around her group.

"I think I'm going to go for a walk," Libralma said off-handedly.

"Want someone to go with you?" asked Maspion eagerly.

"No, I'll be fine. I won't be more than five minutes, max fifteen. I'll take my mace. Don't worry, I _can_ take care of myself."

Frealt and Maspion glanced at each other as the elven woman walked away. They knew Libralma was a loner, but they got worried when she'd just go off on her own. Especially when she wouldn't come back when she said she would.

Libralma quickly left the hill her group was on and she passed out of sight. The only landmark in view on the landscape was a large boulder half buried in the ground. Libralma took a deep breath and relaxed for the first time in her life. She was glad for these friends, but she wasn't used to being liked or admired. Only one person had ever loved her, and he was dead, killed by an orc archer.

Libralma's eyes tingled at unshed tears, but she hastily shook her head to clear them. There was no point in crying over a past long gone. Still, it hurt so much when she dreamed of him. Only now, after his death did she realize how much she had loved him back. After that battle, she had vowed to never love another. She sat on the rock and finally let the memories flow back in on her.

Libralma opened her eyes and realized that tears were streaming down her face. She tried to wipe them away, but they continued to roll down, wetting her cheeks. Finally, she let the tears fall, and just remembered her past.

The sun set on the horizon, and Libralma blinked at the sudden darkness. She instantly knew that she had been gone for a lot longer than fifteen minutes. She quickly stood up, and tried to orient herself. After a quick circle, she knew she had no idea where the camp was.

Libralma knew that if she moved, her friends would have less chance of finding her. It made Libralma feel good to be able to call the group her friends. She had never had real friends until now. She sat back down on the rock to wait for her _friends._ It felt really good to say that.

A horn sounded close by and Libralma immediately knew it was trouble. No one in her party had a horn or any type of instrument. The elf leapt to her feet and prepared herself. From the numerous battles she had been in, she recognized the sound as a goblin war horn.

As if the thought were a summons, a huge mass of goblins seemed to materialize before her as they came up the hill. Libralma was good, but not even she could fight off three score goblins. These goblins looked tough. Everyone had chain mail armor on, and was wielding a large battle-axe. Four less heavily armored goblins at the back held short bows.

The goblins, at first sight of Libralma, laughed maniacally at the easy prey they had found. Libralma's body tensed as the first goblin in the horde lazily swung its weapon at her. _Big mistake._ The tiny creature was dead before it hit the ground. The others, shocked and angered by their companion's death, growled at Libralma fiercely.

As the mass charged her, she noticed the archers holding back. They believed that she wouldn't be able to fend off the sheer numbers. Libralma knew she could take out a lot of goblins, but just one of those arrows could bring her down.

Her mace lifted again and again, always meeting a new goblin's skull or body. There were too many, and they were overpowering her. This she knew. If she didn't get backup soon, she was dead. She could see the archers talking among themselves, and she watched in horror as they drew four arrows. Her time had come, and her only wish was to warn her group.

Suddenly, two of the goblins dropped, arrows lodged in their necks. The other two disappeared in a pink glow a moment later to reappear dead on the ground. A figure in half-plate mail rushed past her and bashed in a goblin's skull with her hammer. Frealt and Maspion rushed over the crest of the hill, firing arrow after arrow into the goblin mass. As the goblins turned to face this new threat, the two archers drew swords and began cutting their way through the ranks.

Libralma continued to smash, but despite the backup the battle looked hopeless. There were just too many. Her friends had come to help, but she didn't know if it would be enough. Maraj stood back and cast as many Magic Missiles as she could.

Libralma began to feel like giving up as the goblins continued coming. She was just about to give up when she felt someone pressing against her back with their own. The slender body behind her reassured her in a way that no spell could. It wasn't Fyg, but she knew they could this battle.

She used one hand to continue crushing skulls, but deftly used the other to undo her belt and throw it around the slim figure. As it came around the other side, she reattached it.

"Thia, I know it's you, so be ready to fling whatever magic you may have when you can. This is going to be rough." Libralma spun around as she charged into the mass, crushing goblins left and right. It took Thia only a moment to realize what was happening. As she was lifted off the ground by Libralma's momentum, she threw spell after spell at the mass, striking down four or five goblins per spell.

The horde was destroyed as Libralma's mace crushed the last goblin head into the ground. She unbuckled her belt and let Thia step away. Libralma turned around and shocked the younger woman by smiling at her.

"Thank you, Thia. Without you, I don't think we could have won that battle."

"What are you talking about? I barely did anything. It was you doing all the fighting, not me."

"No, Thia, it was you. I wouldn't have been able to fight so well without someone at my back. I…" Everyone had crowded around the pair, mainly to make sure Libralma was OK, but they wanted to hear this.

"I guess that it is about time you guys, my friends, knew about my past." They all sat down, except for Frealt who kept an eye on the surrounding landscape. There would be no more surprise attacks.


End file.
